Better
by mischeifxxmanaged
Summary: They deserved better than being reduced to their labels - pureblood and mudblood. Brooding Draco, headstrong Hermione.
1. Better

"Slamming my book shut, I stood and tossed it into my bag. Muttering an excuse to Ginny, I stood and stormed out of the library. I couldn't handle his cold eyes drilling into the back of my head any longer. I heard the second set of footsteps echoing behind me, and I assumed my redheaded friend had followed my lead to make sure that I was alright. I refused to slow down, and quickly darted up the staircase to the right, headed for the astronomy tower. The footsteps picked up, and I heard a huff of annoyance as I came to the first landing. As I made to start up the next flight of stairs, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Ginny, I don't want to…" I stopped as I realized who I was speaking to. Blonde hair, not red. Also, male, not female. I felt my anger flare up, and I tried to keep my expression blank as I addressed him.

"Can I help you, Malfoy?" 

"So we're back to that now?"

"You're the one that decided we're better off as acquaintances. I am the wrong sort for a pureblood to be associated with after all," I snapped as I tried to turn towards the stairs again. He huffed again, turning his eyes down and stepping behind the tapestry off to our left. I shrugged and followed him. He leaned against the wall with another huff, waving his wand. Silencing charm, I thought. He really wanted to have it out then. I wasn't going to hold back.

"Will you stop doing that? You have no reason to be angry with me." I snapped as he rolled his eyes at me. I adjusted my stance so that I was staring at the stone wall over the top of his head, rather than into his eyes, hoping that my expression was still blank enough to not give anything away.

"I'm not angry with you," his eyes bored into my own.

"What can I do for you, Malfoy?"

"Your hair looks especially wild today, did you have some fun with Weasley this morning?" He chuckled dryly.

"Don't start," I snapped as he stepped closer to me. He reached out and touched my wrist, and my anger flared higher than it had in the library. "You know that Ron is just a friend. You know better than anyone that Molly wouldn't allow her precious boys to be with someone like me. What about Parkinson? She must be all over you now that you're back on the market."

"Hermione, I know you may never forgive me…"

"You still don't get it, do you," I cut him off. "I'm not angry about what Blaise said. I understand how pureblood society works. I own my label. I AM a mudblood. I'll always be tainted in their eyes. I'm upset that I was mistaken that your own views haven't changed despite getting to know me. It appears even after all this time; you're still doing what you think would make your parents happy rather than making your own decisions. I don't understand why you would go so far to befriend me before deciding to stick to your bigoted views."

"I didn't know how to stop, it just kept pouring out. I watched his expression harden, and his hands clenched as I continued.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped, stepping towards me and pulling me into his arms. I heard my bag hit the ground with a thud. I tangled my hands into his hair, just like I had so many times before, pulling him closer to me until there was almost no space between us. He groaned as I then slid through his hair, down to the back of his neck. I heard the sharp inhale, and it only made me want to be even closer to him. I took a step forward, as he stepped backwards. I locked my hands together so he couldn't turn away.

"We can't", he began, taking a second step backwards as I stepped forward.

"Bullshit." He chuckled, tracing my curves until his hands laid on my waist. He pressed his forehead against my own, eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled deeply again. We stood there for a moment, just breathing. Suddenly, he shifted again.

"You know we can't," he sighed. "We're just in different places, love."

"Stop lying to yourself. You know as well as I that you just don't want to make things difficult for yourself. It'd be easier with some pureblooded hussy on your arm, with me on the side. You'll never be happy with her, and I'll never let you treat me like you're ashamed of me. I deserve more than that. YOU deserve more than that. Why are you still leaving your happiness up to the whims of others?" 

"Hermione," he started, faltering as I stepped forwards again, pressing him into the cold stone behind us. I felt his hands leave my hips and tangle into my curls. I loosened my hands from his neck and pushed against his chest, hard. 

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that you feel nothing for me, and I'll let you be," I snapped. I stepped back, crossing my arms in front of me. "I'll let you saunter back down to the Slytherin common room and pull Parkinson into your lap, and I'll move on. Who knows, maybe I'll find a nice muggle to settle down with and make more dirty blooded children to flood the halls of Hogwarts. You father would just LOVE that, wouldn't he?" 

His hand darted out and pushed a stray curl out of my face. Suddenly, our positions were reversed, and my back hit the stone. I gasped in surprise as his lips crushed into mine. I couldn't focus on a single thing except the feeling of his chest pressing into me. My arms were around his waist, pulling him in again. He pulled away slightly, and I smirked as my eyes met his.

"You can't keep doing this if you're really going to let me go," I sighed, pushing him back again, stepping out from behind the tapestry and darting up the stairs.


	2. Even Better

I grabbed my goblet from the table and waved my wand to turn it to wine. Bloody useful spell that one. I looked across the great hall to see her brilliant smile as Weasley attempted to balance a textbook on his head, to the delight of half the Gryffindors. He didn't deserve her smile.

I couldn't get her voice out of my head. The words just kept circling, jabbing me in all the places where they knew they'd do the most damage. Acquaintances. Pureblood. Mudblood. Society. Bullshit, indeed. She was right. She was always right, and she knew that. I knew that. She also knows that I won't admit it, at least not aloud. Blasted woman always knew me better than I knew myself, even before she had me wrapped around her finger. I would never be happy living the life my parents planned out for me at birth. A pure heir.

I took a long sip from my goblet as I waved my wand again and the book on top of Weasley's head caught on fire. Bloody Potter threw his goblet at his friend's head, losing his grip so the goblet hit Weasley full force in the middle of his face. Well, that turned out better than I'd expected. I took another sip from my goblet as her laugh rang out.

Then again, what pureblood was truly happy? We all were born into the expectations of high society that are impossible to live up to. Stay pure. Learn the family business. Refrain from activities that will have you disowned. Honestly, how do they expect us to even get by in the world that they've created? One full of good versus evil, where we always get the short end of the broomstick?

Suddenly I've lost my appetite. I slam my drink onto the table and pushed myself up and towards the doors. I knew she wouldn't look as I stormed out because she didn't like to encourage my flair for dramatics, whatever that is supposed to mean. I throw open the doors to the great hall and my robes flail behind me as I storm off down the stairs to the common room.

She made me want to do better, to be better. What is so wrong about wanting a life with someone that makes you the best version of yourself that you could possibly be? It didn't matter what blood she carried, it's all red when it pours out onto the floor. How could I possibly be expected to just give that all up because I needed to remain the spitting image of my father to be accepted in a world that had never done anything for me but label me dark and never give me a chance to redeem myself. I have plans, hopes, and dreams for the future too. Just because I also had a duty to my family doesn't mean I'm not worthy of happiness, of love.

I've almost made it to the entrance when I'm yanked into an empty classroom. I pull my wand out and point it into my attacker's face. Wild curls and caramel eyes stare back at me, defiant. I lower my wand.

"Granger."

"So, we're back to that now," she smirks.

"Fair."

She turns and steps closer to the window looking out into the Black Lake, choosing to focus on a pair of grindylows fighting over a fish instead of me. I trail my eyes over her form as I take a few steps towards the window, choosing to stop at a desk near the front of the room instead of completely crossing the room. The pale green light of the lake danced across her tanned skin. I drop my stare as she finally turns to me.

"What's gotten your wand in a knot," she asks, pulling a stray curl away from her face.

"Hermione," I sigh, leaning against the desk.

"You're the one who decided to shatter a goblet. Obviously, there's something you need to talk about," she deadpans.

"I did not shatter a goblet. I just lost my appetite watching Weasley look you over like a piece of meat," I snapped, dropping my head into my hands.

"Liar."

"We can't keep doing this," I sigh.

"You haven't told me to go. You're stuck with me until you can do that and mean it," she snaps back, crossing the room and sits facing me, cross legged on the desk. I turn to face her, and set my legs on either side of her, with my hands at her waist. She pushes my hair back out of my face, and lightly grips my jaw forcing me to look into her eyes. "All you have to do is tell me to go."

"You're just going to have to get used to the fact that you're never going to be told to go anywhere love. I refuse to let go of the one thing that makes me better," I whisper into her ear as she places her forehead against my own. After a while, she turns so her back is against my chest and my arms encircle her waist. She sighs deeply. We look out into the lake as she leans into me, and I can't help but feel this is just the beginning. Whatever happens, I knew in that moment I'd never truly let her go.

"So, should I give up on my quest to have Molly's approval to pursue Ronald," she laughs, lightly. I laugh as I pull her closer and nestle my face into her curls.


End file.
